Eighteen - Valerio

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Eighteen - Valerio

"Do you think I should go to her flower shop again?" I ask. "Unfortunately it's not a working day." She responds. It's true.

I was sitting by my desk, spinning clockwise and anticlockwise with my chair. The blinds of the room are open, my sister is cracking her knuckles while resting on the headboard of my bed. "I think you should rest this for a while. The only answer is time." She says, getting up from the bed and clapping to wake herself up. I had woken her up an hour early from her usual wake up time because I had an idea. The idea is now gone and I suppose Luna's right, time is my only answer.

"Breakfast's ready!" My mother calls out from the kitchen. "Wow, that smells good!" I exclaim, completely forgetting about the conversation before. It's amazing how my mother's food just knows my mood and how to make it better. They're like a cherry on top. "How's your music going son?" My father asks while the table is being set. I always get taken aback every time papa asks, but I try not to show it. I am just glad he understands. "I am thinking of writing my first album!" I feel so proud of myself. My father is shocked but tries not to show it. My mother and sister applaud, "Oh my god, it's about time for new music!" Luna exclaims.

"I am proud of you son, for coming out of your comfort zone." My father tells me. This boosts my confidence. He rarely says this, but when he does - he never fails to make a smile tug at my face and throw confetti in my head. "What's the concept like?" Luna sits next to me at the dining table, with her hand on her chin and the elbow on the table waiting for my answer. "It's about the child within me and how it likes to break free. I have been writing lyrics for quite a while on this concept, so I would like to expand and try a variety of new things during this journey." I say, feeling accomplished.

Luna looks like she's about to throw a party, my mother looks at me endearingly, and my father... is expressionless. I can't tell what he's about to do nor say, but he stands up, comes up to me, and pats my back like he wants me to do my best. My sister applauds with glee as we start to put all our hands together and pray with gratitude for the food we have in front of us.

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I sit on my father's rocking chair, on the balcony. Tranquility fills me as I inhale and exhale softly. The sun's radiating its warmth, and my eyes are closed. I am within this serene state of mind and I don't want to come out of it. Suddenly I am not sitting on the balcony, I am in a cottage.

The wooden walls are overcoated with brown paint, an antique cat is waving its hand on your left side when you enter the cottage. The lanterns glow like fireflies, sharing light to dark areas. Each room has two lanterns and there are two floors of four rooms on each floor. The rooms fall into a semi-circle, two rooms on each end and two in the middle of the curve. Behind me are a bunch of friends who have come to stay the night at the cottage. Two women and two men to be exact. On the right side of the entrance is the stairs that lead up to the next floor. Where the four rooms also fall in the same pattern as the ground floor. However, there is one room for the person in charge of the cottage. I heard it was a woman. The woman is always outside among the flowers however when I do see her, I catch the little things about her.

My room was upstairs, you could hear me strumming my guitar. My legs were crossed on top of one another, and my guitar resting on my right leg. I was experimenting with different chords for a new song. I had some lyrics written and wanted to create a tune for it. It was a song I didn't think I would write about, but here I am writing the chords down. "Ahem," I cleared my throat, and then tested my vocal cords.

Sounds good. "You sound like delicate daydreams," I sang, strumming the chords I had written for the line. I continue, as I follow the lines I have written, and the chords flowing right through me. "You sound like delicate daydreams, filled with innocence and youth. My flower gal, my cherry on top. Where have you been all my life? Shower me with your love, whisper sweet nothings, and watch me stand on my two feet." I keep singing, my voice surprisingly exceeding expectations...

The phone rings, bringing me back to reality. It's literally vibrating on the table, whoever's calling must be thrilled to call me. I flip the phone to the screen. It's unknown. Strange, I hope it's not a scam. I pick up and place the phone on my ear to hear a female voice.

"Rio?" 

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